You Wanted to See Me, Professor?
by RomanEmpress777
Summary: Professor Ambrose has summoned one of his students to come speak with him in his office. What could he possibly want to talk about? *Smutty one-shot*


**You Wanted to See Me, Professor?**

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Ambrose?" I say shyly as I knock softly and then step into Professor Ambrose's office. Mr. Ambrose, my Psychology professor, looks at me in silence. He leans back in his black, leather chair and puts his hands behind his head. His face shows zero amusement, which is the complete opposite of the boyish grin he always gives his students during his lectures. Right now, sitting behind is shiny wooden desk, he looks frustrated, even angry. I suck in a breath and get ready to talk, but he starts speaking before I can.

"Don't say a word," he says in a raspy voice. "Close the door and lock it." I reluctantly turn my back on Mr. Ambrose for a quick second to close and lock his office door. I go to turn back around, but the big, warm hands on my waist stop me. It does not register to me what is going on until Professor Ambrose's fingers slide up and down my sides and then stop to squeeze just above my ass. I gasp embarrassingly loud and jerk away from him as far as I can, which is not much since there is a thick door in front of me. Closed and locked. There is enough room for me to throw myself around and look at Mr. Ambrose with wide eyes.

"Professor Ambrose, what-"

"Well that wasn't the reaction I was expecting," He says chuckling. Excuse me?

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask in a breathless voice.

He just shakes his head and tells me to shhh. For some reason, I do exactly as he says. He steps towards me and presses his body against mine, forcing my back against the door. He stands there for a second staring into my eyes and says, "Fuck, I can hear your heart beating. Do I make you nervous?" I can hear my heart beating too. It's practically beating out my chest! I can't seem to make words come out of my mouth so I just nod my head.

"Yeah?" He says, and then gives me that boyish grin. Without saying anything else, he brings his lips to mine softly. I guess I take too long to react because his hands grab my face and he kisses me harder and pushes his tongue into my mouth. The kiss is so strong it causes my head to fall back onto the door. Finally, I react the way I know he wants me to and I kiss him back. One of his hands moves away from my face and makes its way to my throat. He squeezes gently and continues to kiss me. The small amount of pressure on my throat causes me moan and kiss him back with more enthusiasm.

Professor Ambrose smiles into the kiss and makes it his goal to get me to make that noise again, so he moves my legs apart with his foot and rubs his jean covered leg into the crotch of my black leggings. That definitely got the reaction he wanted. I subconsciously start to rub myself harder on him trying to get to that certain goal that he knows I want. He continues to kiss me and I rub myself frantically on his leg. I can only imagine how I look at this point. I'm dry humping his leg for fucks sake, but I don't care. At this point, I need to cum and I am close. He knows it. I know it. Mr. Ambrose lifts his leg a little bit higher so I can adjust myself to rub on him the way that I want to. After a few more minutes of dry humping his leg like a dog (the embarrassment will probably hit me later), I get to that special place. I reached my goal. When I am done moaning into his mouth, Mr. Ambrose stops kissing me. He pulls back and a small string of slob breaks between our lips once he pulls back completely. Professor Ambrose chuckles again and wipes my lips with his thumb.

"Mr. Ambrose….why?" Those are the only words that I could get to leave my mouth.

He looks directly into my eyes and says, "The next time you want me to get you off, I suggest you come to me instead of writing about it and passing notes like a thirteen year old, do you understand?" He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a crumpled up piece of notebook paper. I recognize it immediately. My friend and I had been passing notes during Professor Ambrose's lecture. How the hell did he get it?

"Goodbye," Professor Ambrose says before I can ask how he got the note. That's my cue to leave, so I calm myself down and walk quietly out of his office and down the hall, with the biggest smile on face…..maybe I should come see him more often.


End file.
